


Echos of Loss

by Aurona



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Ichihime - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Oneshot, Oneshot Series, POV Kurosaki Ichigo, severe angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-11 13:10:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12935979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurona/pseuds/Aurona
Summary: "Kurosaki-kun, do you think Kami-sama has a favorite flavor of ice cream?" She asks one sunny summers day... His hands, soaked in her blood, tremble.





	Echos of Loss

It was sunny when it happened.

Breaks squealed, tires screeching against the hot pavement as a large vehicle came to a stop.

Too late, far too late.

Pretty, pretty gray eyes gazed up toward the sky, mirroring the fluffy white clouds with a frozen astonishment in their depths. Pink lips parted minutely, just enough to allow a soft rush of air to pass.

Too soon, far too soon.

Broken limbs, bones protruding from pale skin as it slowly drains of all healthy color. A growing puddle of crimson red seeping into long, long auburn hair fanned out against the black concrete. A slender hand stretching, reaching toward-

Horror. His heart flew up, somewhere distant and unseen. It did not catch in his throat, or drop to bury itself in his stomach. It left entirely, leaving a gaping hole in his chest. His hands are scratched, and dirty from his rough landing.

"Orihime..." A broken female whisper from behind him. A cell phone with a leek phone strap clatters to the ground.

.

_“Hey ‘hime! You forgot your phone on your desk again.”_

_He struggles to keep his gaze forward. Keigo continues to babble on uselessly about something “unjust” and “unfair”. His eyes flicker to his right, where the Princess and Dragon of Karakura converse by the school notice board._

_“Ah! Sorry Tatski, it just slipped my mind.” She giggles, scratching the back of her head sheepishly as her best friend shakes her head in poorly veiled amusement._

_“You’d forget your own head if I let you.”_

.

Under a layer of thick, wild orange hair, brown eyes grow wide in shock and horror. Large hands tremble, useless even for all their strength.

Glasses, having gone askew in a failed attempt, clattered to the concrete, and cracked. Equal terror and _shame_ now revealed in the eyes of the owner. Beside them, a large body of muscle and dark tanned skin stands as rigid as a statue with large, equally horrified eyes directed toward the body of-

"Inoue..."

He was the first to move, to break the haunting portrait they all unwillingly made together.

He scrambles up from his prone position on his hands and knees, rushing forward the few steps that separated them before collapsing all over again. Sharp rocks bite at his knees through his school uniform, and a thick sticky substance he doesn’t want to think about slowly seeps into the cloth.

His hands fumble, sliding over the warm, sticky crimson slowly seeping through the white top of her uniform.

_Pressure. Apply pressure._

"Inou-…  _Orihime_." He fumbles over her name, as if calling her by her first name will somehow help. Somehow reverse what has happened in a blink of an eye.

Her hand stays outstretched on the ground, but does not move.

"Orihime... _Orihime_..." He chants, begging. Begging for something to flash in her gaze. Anything.

The twinkle she gets in her eyes when she smiles at  _him_.

The soft warmth when she sees him worrying over her.

The soft lazy light that appears when she wakes up from a good nap.

Distantly, he can hear Tatsuki's cries of despair.

"Orihime! Orihime!" Her voice screams, and screams until her throat becomes raw and he can hear it. And she continues to scream even after the fact.

He keeps applying pressure, his hands ever more saturated with blood. Her blood.

.

_"Hm, Kurosaki-kun," She asks one sunny summers day. They sit on a bench, each with a cone of ice cream in hand while they watch their friends retrieve their own from the vendor. "Do you think Kami-sama has a favorite flavor of ice cream?"_

_He looks at her quietly for several long seconds before replying, "Maybe."_

_The answer seems to please her, and she goes back to eating her treat and watching the birds fly overhead. And the air feels warmer, pleasant._

.

"Orihime..." His forehead touches her own, and his eyes close. And he holds his breath, waiting for a ghost of air to rush past her lips and touch his skin. Waiting to feel the hints of life touch his skin as some sort of sign.

He feels nothing.

"Orihime..." His hands, soaked in her blood, press even harder as they tremble.

.

_She twirls around on her toes as she walks, just slightly behind and to the left of him. Her eyes gaze at the windows of passing shops with childlike wonder. He figures she doesn’t know he can see her in the reflections. And he finds himself thinking it is better that way. He can watch her._

_She twirls once more and this time stumbles, nearly avoiding a head-on collision with a lamp post. And he takes her hand in his own. Her skin is soft, and her bones so clearly less dense than his own. Like a bird’s wing._

_"Oi, be careful." He rationalizes that Tatsuki would kill him if he let Orihime get hurt. And that is why he doesn’t let her hand go. His hold is firm, but gentle even as he finds himself applying the barest amount of pressure for just a few seconds._

_He knows he is a liar._

.

"Orihime..."He calls again, wanting to shake her. She has taken all sorts of nasty spills down the stairs at school. Something like this couldn’t just-

_She needs to snap out of it. She’s only stunned._  He tries to convince himself, and his fingers clench in her tattered bloody shirt.

.

_“I can just heal it with my Rikka, Kurosaki-kun… you don’t need to put the-.”_

_“O-owie!” Her voice is soft, even as her arm jerks in his hold. And his lips quirk into a smirk he soon drops as her wounded gaze returns to his. Her lips turn to a pout, and she turns her gaze back to her arm. A long, deep scratch runs from the inside of her elbow to the base of her thumb. It is not deep enough to need stitches, but still deep enough to bleed._

_“It shouldn’t scar.” He informs, dabbing at it carefully with a cotton ball with a scent that burns both of their noses. “And you shouldn’t heal it. Everyone saw you fall. They’ll ask questions, right?”_

_He meets her gaze for another heartbeat, waiting barely half that for her nod of understanding._

_He later tries to ignore the memory of the sweet scent wafting off her skin._

.

He can feel hands on his shoulders, and hear voices telling him to let her go.

_She’ll die._ He thinks, horror clouding his mind as the hands pull at his arms. Pull him away from her. When they move to take his hands from her wound, he lashes out.

He doesn’t remember who restrains him. Maybe it is an officer, or Chad. But he remembers being pulled away. His feet dig into the ground, dragging and grinding the soles of his shoes to ruin as he watches people swarm her body. And soon, she is hidden from his sight.

.

_"Tatsuki-chan..." He overhears her speaking, and approaches the sound of her voice with the intent to say hello first for a change. He stops himself from rounding the corner as she speaks again._

_"I wanted to confess..." Her voice is a whisper. A far cry from its usual bubbly joy._

_“That’s great ‘hime!” Tatsuki says, her voice is surprisingly warm even considering that is the usual tone she takes with the healer. And he can tell she honestly means it. And he wonders how this… guy… gained Tatsuki’s blessings of all people._

_“But…”_

_“But?”_

_“He still doesn’t love me…”_

_His heart constricts, and the pain comes from many places._

.

As she is lifted onto a gurney, and pushed into the ambulance, his heart returns with fear he has never felt so strong. And it intensifies as the doors are shut, leaving him with the painful image of several paramedics working over her fragile form.

_This might be the last time…_

He tears his arms out of the strong hold keeping him still, ignoring their grasping hands as they reach toward him.

He is already moving. Running, catching speed as his long legs push to their limit and beyond as the ambulance steadily makes its way, gaining speed, through the gap in traffic. The bright lights and loud noise of the sirens echo in his ears dimly, but his own voice breaks through the haze.

It is raw, and filled with agony.

“ _Orihime!_ ”

.

_“Kurosaki-kun… After school, would you like to get something to eat? There’s something I want to tell you…”_

_._


End file.
